When Spence heard that his hired guns had missed their chance to capture Dianne, he would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. Getting things done at the first time of asking was something he prided himself on and expected others to achieve the same result when he delegated them work. However, things were looking up because he had received notification that the contact he had assigned to photograph her and her family; delivered the package and warning with no trouble encountered. At least one of his new employees was able to follow instructions to his standard.
“Delivering the photographs is only the first phase of the plan as you know. Now comes phase 2 and this is where it gets a little bit trickier. You need to integrate yourself into the life either of the mother, the daughter or the niece. You’ve got youth on your side and have proven before you can adapt easily to most situations so I’m being lenient with you… get me a report within 72 hrs or find yourself new work. I expect results and not failure; is that clear? Good now stop wasting time by taking to me and start coming up with your new background story and identity,” said Spence as he put the phone back on the receiver. He was currently working from home because whilst he had fulfilled the requirements of his last contract with The Polyamourous Group by getting the attention of James Valentine; they claimed he was of more benefit as a field agent just now rather than sitting in an office building. His response to this was that they were pencil pushing pricks that didn’t appreciate how much he had done for the company over the last 20 years, however whilst not agreeing with their decision he accepted it.
His home (and he used that term lightly) was situated on Richmond Terrace and rather conveniently looked over Magdalen Green. It was an A-listed building meaning that he could not touch the outside but the inside was a whole different story. It was suited and booted with more technological gadgets than James Bond, Batman and The Terminator rolled into one. What was supposed to be the lounge on the left of the main hallway that ran from the front to back of the building had been converted into a communications room with things such as a security camera control grid that probably controlled just as much of Dundee as the main police headquarters on West Bell Street, and you could bet it was illegally owned or The Polyamourous Group had obtained special permission for him to have the access to it. He also had multiple computer terminals hooked up to massive servers and god only knows what data they held. There was a rather large metal plate in the middle of the north-facing wall however that was poorly covered by a velvet curtain. Behind the curtain was a custom built elevator car that took him up to the master bedroom but more impressively down maybe 300 feet underground. To top it off, the tunnel ran all the way to Monifieth and you got there by using any one of the two underground tube trains complete with turnstiles for entering and exiting the tunnel, security staff to greet you and drivers to operate the trains. The Polyamourous Group were quick to build and use these tunnels but I could almost bet that the local council didn’t know a damned thing about it. Hell even if they did, the amount of money they were getting in backhanders from the company would have ensured a blind eye was turned.
The décor was a mixture of Victorian and Elizabethan wooden tables, units and desks; and then a more modern touch with pristine condition leather sofa’s armchairs and recliners. He was definitely a man of luxury and a bachelor but you could be certain that with his reputation for ruthlessness that the only people he entertained (and even that would be on extremely special circumstances) were his direct superiors within the company.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The walls were generically painted black with golden lamps on the walls and with dark curtains dropping from ceiling to floor, shutting out any external light, creating a very uncomfortable atmosphere that he felt quite happy living in. The house had that old musky smell you would expect to find in an abandoned mansion somewhere out in the countryside. Spence was very fond of candles to the point that each and every surface throughout the entire house had at least 1 candle on it and the candle was scented with the smell of lavender.
His kitchen was stainless steel and all automated so that he didn’t have to do much. His dishwasher was rarely used because he ate only when necessary; the fridge-freezer was an American sized one with an ice-cube maker on the inside door; the cooker had both gas and electric functionality with the main rings being electric and the oven being gas; there was also a coffee maker and a juicer/blender; but his pride and joy was the Japanese kitchen knife and chopping board set he had been given by the Japanese director of the board, Mr Takashi.
Spence had been assigned to Mr Takashi’s team of accountants for a period of time in the late 90’s and was expected to help balance the books for the Asian branch of The Polyamourous Group. Things were not going too good over there due to heavy competition in the computer design marker and it looked as though TPG might have gone to the wall, something that could not happen under any circumstances.
Mr Takashi told Spence that he needed to do whatever was required to keep the company afloat and so that’s exactly what he did. His methods were never questioned and his actions never challenged; and with that level of respect between them both, Spence managed to bring the ship back in line with the projected targets during month 14 of the 18 month plan. As a thank you, Spence was treated to a banquet where the sushi chef made the meals at Mr Takashi’s personal condo. Spence liked the way that the chef worked the knives and so he was gifted them with an inscription on the blades saying ‘Hope in your heart that death takes you before this blade’. Most would see that as a strange and unsettling message; Spence saw it as a way of life and if he could get his way, Valentine would be his next victim.
His beeper went off with a message telling him to call someone on the non-registered telephone line. That was another advantage of working for a major company like The Polyamourous Group, they have a lot of sway with telecoms companies and for a price they can ensure your line is untraceable. The particular landline telephone was in his study, so Spence made his way up the main hall staircase that led to the second floor of the house. The handrail had been carved with Celtic designs flowing throughout and in such immaculate condition that it looked as though it had just recently been fitted in the building. Sure he could use the elevator from the communications room to get to the study but that would defeat the purpose of having the staircase built.
Upon entering the study, he sat down at his desk and drew the curtains. The clock showed the time as being 10am, so whoever wanted to talk to him so bad had better have a damned good reason. Under his desk was a switch that controlled the projector and screen for the room. He picked up the headset for his phone and put it on then dialled the private number he had been sent on the beeper. Within a few moments the projector clicked to life and the corporate video calling system kicked in and Spence could see the person that had beeped him. Shock hit him for a few moments and he sat there completely numb, but after a few moments of his brain registering who had contacted him Spence finally managed to compose himself and displayed the sinister smile he often wore…
“I’m a busy man and don’t have time for this kind of crap usually, but for you I’ll make an exception…”